


The Kitten Hosting Thing

by hexthejinx



Series: Fics for Sterek Week [1]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Cats, Fluff, Humor, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-07-10
Updated: 2013-07-10
Packaged: 2017-12-18 08:28:31
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,373
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/877744
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hexthejinx/pseuds/hexthejinx
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“How about you starting to make any sense, for a change?”</p><p>“Well, basically these babies are innocent victims of my father's ruthless and irrational attachment to his wardrobe. And here am I, Derek, giving you a chance to step out of the path of eternal broodiness and wicked werewolf deeds, and you’re going to seriously mess up your karma if you don’t take this chance.”</p><p>Derek lets out a long-suffering sigh and puts the box on the floor. “I give up.”</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Kitten Hosting Thing

**Author's Note:**

> For anon prompt:  
>  _Sterek prompt! Stiles is really more of a cat person and he can't keep them at home so he takes them all to Derek's loft._
> 
> I had so much fun writing this :)

It’s early morning and Stiles is wandering around the house, searching.

“One, two... Three... Holy shit, buddy, I almost stepped on you! Four... Come on, it’s not cool to hide under the couch. Ugghh... Okay, I’ve got you. Hey! Where do you think you are going, you two? Alright, that’s five...” 

“Six, seven,” his father adds, walking into the room and depositing two fluffy balls into Stiles’ arms, already full of meowing kittens.

“Thanks, dad! Where were they?”

“Sleeping on my shirt. My clean, uniform shirt.” Sheriff’s face is clearly not amused as he holds up the said shirt, now adorned with black and white fur.

“Well, that’s clearly your fault. Told you not to leave your good clothes on the bed.”

“Stiles. It’s my home and I will put my things wherever I want, and leave my bedroom door open if I feel like it.”

“Then stop complaining.” His dad expression darkens considerably so Stiles quickly amends himself. “Come on, dad! They’re kittens, they don’t understand that it’s wrong and that they’re not supposed to do this.”

Sheriff sighs as he follows his son into the kitchen and watches him place the litter carefully on the tiled floor. The kittens scatter almost right away, clearly not feeling like staying put. Stiles busies himself at the counter, lining up bowls and filling them with dry cat food. The rattling sound catches attention of two adult cats, who immediately start to weave around his legs, purring loudly. Stiles laughs as he tries to place the bowls down and avoid getting head-bumped. Sheriff shakes his head slowly and takes a sit at the table.

“Listen, son. I’m not against a cat. I’m not even against two. But nine? Sometimes I can’t even move around without tripping over one. The fridge is already half-full with cans of cat food. Last week I bought a six-pack and there wasn’t enough room to put it inside.”

Stiles levels his dad with a pointed look. “Which is actually good. Beer is not good for your health, you know.”

Sheriff rolls his eyes. “I’m not getting into this conversation right now. My point is, they need to go.” He jerks his head toward the kittens, temporarily placated over their breakfast. 

Stiles looks horrified. “What? No!”

Sheriff just leans back in his seat, expression serious.

“But... They’re Snowflake’s kids! Who is practically like my kid. Which makes them,” he indicates the litter with his finger, “your great-grandchildren, of sorts. You just _can’t_ kick out your great-grandchildren, dad, come on.”

“I’ve always hoped that if I ever have grandchildren, they will be less hairy,” Stiles’ father remarks dryly. “I’m not changing my mind about it, Stiles. They’re old enough already. And I don’t want you to throw them out. Find them good homes. But do it _soon_.” He has his stern face on, one that Stiles knows too well, knows that there’s no room for argument when sheriff gets like that. “And we’re going to have these two neutered.” With that, sheriff gets up and retreats to his bedroom, probably in futile attempt to find a decent work shirt.

_____________

Derek stares at the boy on his threshold, dumbfounded. “What.”

Stiles smiles sheepishly. “So, the favor I’ve asked you for? This is it.”

The alpha continues to glower.

“Oh, come on!” Stiles steps further into the loft and practically shoves the cardboard box at Derek’s chest. “Aren’t they cute?”

Derek grabs the box by reflex and peers down into it. His expression doesn’t change.

“Oh my God,” Stiles groans. “You’re actually made of stone and sourness. Not even seven balls of fluff can move you.”

“How about you starting to make any sense, for a change?”

“Well, basically these babies are innocent victims of my father's ruthless and irrational attachment to his wardrobe. And here am I, Derek, giving you a chance to step out of the path of eternal broodiness and wicked werewolf deeds, and you’re going to seriously mess up your karma if you don’t take this chance.”

Derek lets out a long-suffering sigh and puts the box on the floor. “I give up.”

“Awesome, so does it mean they can stay?”

Derek gapes at him. “What?”

There’s a soft clanking noise as Isaac comes down the metal staircase. “Oh, hi Stiles, what’s...” His whole face brightens up when he sees the kittens, now trying to climb out of the box. He squats down and picks one up. “Oh my God, these are adorable. Are they yours?” He nuzzles his cheek against the kitty’s fur.

“See? Isaac already loves them. So I guess I can...” Stiles turns around, taking a step towards the door. A hand grasps at his hoodie and the next second he lands heavily on the couch. He winces and looks up at Derek, who’s standing above him with his arms crossed over his chest.

“You’re not going anywhere. _Explain_.” The last word is almost a growl.

Stiles rubs his shoulder where it collided with the back of the couch. “Charming as always, aren’t you?”

“ _Stiles_.”

“Fine!” He throws his arms in the air. “My dad wants me to find them homes, but it’s been a week and it’s not easy to find them good, responsible owners, so he starts to get irritated, and thinks I’m prolonging this on purpose, which I am certainly not, thank you very much. Bottom line, I need to house them somewhere for the time being. Won’t take long, I promise.”

Derek’s eyebrows travel up his forehead in incredulity. “So you thought it’d be a good idea to bring them to the apartment inhabited by _werewolves_? Who cats are frightened of?” 

Stiles jerks his chin in Isaac’s direction. “Does it look like fright to you?”

Derek turns around and stares at his beta, who has one purring and content kitten in his lap, while the other tries to climb his back, making Isaac giggle. Stiles grins. “Special breed of werewolf-immune cats, dude. Scott’s been checking up on them and teaching me how to take care of them since they were born, so they’re pretty much used to the presence. They’re not going to back out just because you have bigger teeth than them.”

Derek shoots him a dark look. Stiles tries to look unaffected by it. The alpha continues glaring for a while then, and when it obviously doesn’t work, he sighs heavily.

“Just for the time being. _Very_ short time being. It’s my home, not animal shelter.”

He turns around, heading toward the staircase, so he doesn’t see Stiles fist pumping the air in victory. Isaac notices it though and he grins up at the other boy.

“And I’m not cleaning after them,” Derek adds, already ascending the stairs. “Nor does Isaac, he’s got other chores to do.”

“So does it mean I can come here everyday?”

“No, Stiles,” Derek leans over banister. His face is like the depiction of the word ‘menacing’. “You _have_ to come here every day, or your cats end up in the hallway.”

“He doesn’t mean it,” Isaac reassures Stiles, when Derek disappears upstairs. 

For a moment, Stiles looks worried. “I hope so.”

_____________

The pack falls in love with the kittens at the first sight. Everyone wants to hold them, pet them or play with them almost all the time when they are at the loft. Needless to say, it completely disarranges the weekly pack meeting. After a few failed attempts to hold attention of his betas for more than two minutes, Derek gives up, mumbles something under his breath and retreats upstairs, a quite accurate impression of a thundercloud.

“What’s wrong with him?” Lydia asks, stroking over the belly of one of the kittens. “I mean, beside the usual?”

Scott waves his hand dismissively. “He’s just a sourwolf.”

“Hey!” Stiles punches Scott’s arm. “That’s my word, trademarked and all!”

Scott just smiles at him good-naturedly and Stiles can’t even _pretend_ to be angry at this guy.

_____________

There’s something wrong with Stiles’ brain. In fact, he’s pretty sure his brain is damaged and broken to the point of no repair. Or maybe, he’s still asleep? Yeah, this is probably it. He is sleeping, and having the weirdest dream, and he’s going to be just fine when he wakes up...  
Peter Hale seems to sense someone is staring at him. He lifts his head from where he is cooing at the kittens and rolls his eyes. “You again. Got something to say or you just want to annoy me, as usual?”

Stiles shakes his head. Nope. Pretty sure brain damaged.

_____________

The first two kittens go to their new homes on the same day. Logically, Stiles knows that their new owners are good people and the cats will be happy there. Hell, he went as far as sneaking into his father’s office at lunch break and checking on his computer if these people don’t have a police record by any chance. When it comes to cats, Stiles is a serious man, no half-assing. Still, he can’t help but feel low-spirited about the two kittens no longer being there, even if he still has the other five to look after.

“Jesus. You’re broadcasting misery within a mile radius.”

“Go away,” Stiles bemoans, not moving away from the window he is gazing out of. “Let a guy pine in peace.”

“I’ll have none of that.” 

Stiles squeaks when two hands grab his middle and he is nearly hauled towards the couch. He looks warily at Derek, who squats in front of the TV, scanning the shelf underneath it. 

“What are you doing?”

“Distracting you.”

“By dragging me around?”

Derek pulls out a DVD case and eyes it suspiciously. “I swear to God, I don’t know where Isaac gets these...” He looks over his shoulder at Stiles. “No, you idiot. With a movie.” He waves the case around, as to back up his words. “Any special wishes?”

Stiles slowly sits on the couch, as he muses over the question. “Um... Something with lots of explosions? And no fluffy animals at all.”

Derek actually smiles at him, and Stiles is a little taken aback. “That shouldn’t be a problem.”

_____________

Couple of days later Stiles is sitting on Derek’s couch again, this time with Isaac. He comes to the loft everyday as he has promised, but he doesn’t only stick to cleaning up the litter box and then leave. Since he goes all the way uptown, he may as well hang out for a while. Sometimes it is only with Isaac, but more often than not they are joined by Derek, and the other pack members show up frequently too. This time Stiles has brought his text books with him and he’s helping Isaac with chemistry homework. They’ve been studying for a while, when Derek comes downstairs and crosses the room to get to the open kitchen. There’s a mostly black, furry shape trotting after him. Stiles looks at Isaac questioningly.

Isaac snorts. “Apparently that one has taken a liking to Derek. She follows him around all the time.”

“She’s even a worse nuisance than Stiles,” Derek calls out from the kitchen, and ignores the offended ‘hey!’ he’s given in response. A minute later he comes back to the room, sandwich in hand. The cat flats herself to the ground and then mock-attacks Derek’s leg, her little claws sliding over the fabric of his jeans. Derek lets out a soft growl, irritated, and flashes his canines down at her. The kitty doesn’t appear affected. She bristles and hisses right back at the alpha. Stiles can’t help it. The bewildered look on Derek’s face is so priceless that he laughs so hard he slips off the couch and just lies on the floor, as he keeps cackling.

_____________

Saying goodbye to the other kitties is much easier than to the first two. It helps that not all of them are given away to the total strangers; Lydia and Erica each take one. After dropping off the sixth, Stiles comes back to the loft.

“You see, Derek?” he calls out, confident that Derek will hear him, wherever in the apartment he currently is. “This kitty hosting thing wasn’t that bad. Only one more to go.”

“No.”

“No what?” Stiles steps forward and sees Derek sprawled on the couch. 

“No more to go,” Derek answers as Stiles walks even closer and spots a dark shape curled up on Derek’s chest.

“Wow, dude. You’re keeping her?” Derek nods, but Stiles still isn’t convinced. “For real? The one that drives you crazy?”

“Yeah, she’s annoying. Doesn’t mean I don’t like her.” The look that Derek is giving Stiles is oddly significant. Stiles really doesn’t want to let himself hope and read it in a certain way, but he does anyway. “And I think she likes me to. Don’t you, Churchie?” Derek scratches the cat behind her ears making her lean forward for more.

Stiles rises an eyebrow. “Churchie?”

“Church.”

“Why would you... _Oh my God_. No. Just no. Derek, you can’t name a sweet kitten after a zombie-cat from Stephen King’s novel. You just _can’t_.”

“Yeah?” It’s Derek’s turn to lift his eyebrows mockingly. His mouth twists into a mischievous smirk. “Tell me, Stiles, how’s Hollow? As in, a soul-devouring-demon-from-an-anime, Hollow?”

“What...? I haven’t told you my other cat’s na- Oh my God, I’m gonna kill Scott.”

Derek grins openly then, looking smug. Stiles catches himself less plotting about what to do to Scott for that obvious breaching of the bros’ friendship code and more thinking about how good Derek looks smiling widely like that.

“At least it sounds cool. In your case, people are going to think you’re extremely religious, or something.”

“Shut up.” 

A couple of moments pass in silence until Stiles feels the need to speak out again.

“So, I guess I’m going to come here more often then? ‘Cause I’d love to keep in touch with her and all.”

Derek’s gaze is still playful and it’s really distracting. “What, you’re going to visit only because of the cat? Now I’m offended.”

Stiles decides to play along. “No, not only.” He reaches out to pet the cat and doesn’t move away when Derek’s fingers encircle his wrist and pull him down.

**Author's Note:**

> Come say hello on [Tumblr](http://hexthejinx.tumblr.com)!


End file.
